


our love is a fistfight

by alamorn



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/F, Fingerfucking, Pre-Canon, Sex Pollen, Stone Butch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24619111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamorn/pseuds/alamorn
Summary: Nebula should have known it would be a bad mission the moment she won the coin toss.
Relationships: Gamora/Nebula (Marvel)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 34
Collections: The First Annual Femslash Kink Exchange 2020





	our love is a fistfight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scioscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scioscribe/gifts).



> Title is adapted from [Fistfight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w54SDrztz8Q) by The Ballroom Thieves.
> 
> I fell in love with the concept of a stone butch Nebula the second I saw your prompt, sciocribe, and I absolutely had to write her. Have a good FemslashKinkEx!

Gamora always won their battles, but Nebula won the coin toss, so she took lead on the pick up. It should have been grunt work, except that Thanos was sending _them_ , and he never put his favorite daughter on grunt work. There was something he wasn't telling them, and Nebula knew that she was the acceptable loss in this equation. They were to test a new possibility for chemical warfare, and then to arrange for a regular supply.

It was a pretty enough planet, and all the prettier for Gamora's sullenness. The cities were in bubbles, miles above the surface, which seethed with a toxic red mist. Gamora's green skin was radiant when she stood against the railing, lit from beneath.

"It's astonishing that you managed to survive, let alone thrive, given all that," Gamora said, gesturing with an open hand at the mist.

The creature they were meeting, a translucent biped with no visible skeleton but half a dozen glowing lavender eyes, made a humming noise. "Long exposure builds tolerance, but our life expectancy has quadrupled since we moved above the mist. It drives you mad before it kills you. It's... difficult, to progress as a people, when in a constant frenzy."

"You say you can mine it," Nebula said, taking a seat away from the window. These Vrovea had low, padded benches, rather than chairs, but that suited her fine; she lounged, legs spread, elbows braced on knees. Her shoulder hurt, where the new implant was still healing, and she rolled it irritably. "We need a demonstration that it's as effective as you claim."

The Vrovean moved to the center of the room and plucked a red glass cylinder from a display podium. When it presented the cylinder to Nebula, she realized the glass wasn't red -- it was packed with the red mist from below, so densely that it looked solid.

Thanos had told them to test it. He had wanted a _first hand report_. "Open it," Nebula said, while Gamora circled behind the Vrovean.

The Vrovean's half dozen eyes flicked from Nebula to Gamora, and Nebula snarled. _She_ was the lead, not Gamora. " _Open it,"_ she said again, "or we leave. You said it's not fatal, well, we need to know what we're getting."

"The effect is quite...potent, and unpredictable," the Vrovean said. If it had been mammalian, it would have been sweating. "It will drive you to a frenzy. Are you sure?"

Gamora plucked the cylinder from its hands. "You're brave, to question Thanos," she said, and dashed the cylinder to the floor.

It shattered, mist roiling out in tendrils and streams. The Vrovean ran for the door and locked them in with a hiss of pneumatics. Nebula stared at Gamora as the mist rose around them. She felt when it hit her, though it didn't hit hard -- her lungs were mechanical, and her heart, and much of her brain. Almost the only thing organic about her was her digestive tract, but that was enough for the mist. Her mouth watered, her stomach twisted. 

She could see that when it hit Gamora, it hit much harder. For once, Gamora's strength worked against her, and Nebula was not above taking small comforts. Sweat beaded at Gamora's hairline, and she stumbled, once, like she'd been hit by someone she couldn't hit back.

"Are you frenzied, dear sister?" Nebula drawled, and Gamora grunted, threw herself at Nebula fist first.

For once, Nebula had the advantage. Gamora was sloppy, uncoordinated. Nebula pitched her over the bench, and pinned her on the ground while Gamora writhed, so out of it she'd forgotten how to fight. On the floor, the mist rose around them, heavier than air and smelling vaguely sulfurous.

"I can see why Father's buyers would want this," Nebula mused, holding Gamora's wrists down as Gamora snarled in her face. "Killing you would be so easy right now." She took a moment to think about it. She could break Gamora's neck with barely a thought, and then -- 

Well, Thanos _might_ not kill her when she came home alone. And maybe she wouldn't go home. There would be no one to stop her, after all.

She was braced to keep Gamora from throwing her. She wasn't braced for Gamora to kiss her.

The frenzy, rather than being stopped, had merely shifted. Gamora's writhing beneath her grew focused, and Nebula jerked away. Her cunt had been one of the first things Thanos had _improved_ , and she didn't want it touched, didn't want Gamora to know just how much had been taken from her. Gamora had never seen an advantage she didn't take, and followed Nebula's flinch, breaking her grip and flipping them over. Her legs clamped tight around Nebula's waist.

Nebula was ready for the fight to continue: Gamora was good on the ground, had kicked Nebula in the face at an impossible angle before. But instead of lashing out, Gamora cupped Nebula's skull and kissed her again, rough and messy, too frantic to be careful of her teeth.

Gamora's mouth was hot against the cool synthetic nerves that enhanced Nebula's lips. _Gamora_ was hot, almost feverishly so. That was the mist; Gamora ran cool, for someone still entirely organic. Nebula found herself kissing back before she caught hold of her instincts -- and what a surprise _those_ hadn't been replaced, along with the rest of her. When Gamora's tongue slipped into her mouth, Nebula shoved her, hard enough that Gamora slid across the floor until she hit the curved glass of the wall.

This time, Nebula was ready as Gamora got slowly to her feet.

"Sister..." Nebula said warningly, though she'd never really considered them that. It was a reminder of their connection. It was a reminder that this would give Thanos leverage over them, no matter how it went.

Gamora gasped, her hair hanging raggedly around her face. "Nebula," she said. "I want-" She broke off to breathe, her head tilted back, neck a long line, less elegant than normal, as she gasped at the clear air. "I _want_." And then, screaming, she ran at Nebula once more.

Nebula caught her outstretched arm, twisted it up behind Gamora's back, and slammed her face first into the other wall. Then she leaned into her, hard, pinning Gamora with her own body, kicking her legs apart. 

Gamora's hair was tangled in her face, and it was soft against Nebula's. They were so close they were sharing air, and the mist was starting to effect Nebula more. She wanted to kiss Gamora again, wanted to taste every inch of her.

"Either fuck me or kill me," Gamora said. "Or I'll kill you."

Nebula had to think about it. The entire time she thought, Gamora writhed, trying to get friction, and to get her to hold still, Nebula shoved her hand down Gamora's pants. Gamora threw her head back, nearly smashing Nebula's nose, but then she just ground forward.

Gamora was dripping wet, drenched, her folds so slick that it took Nebula some fumbling to get her fingers framing Gamora's clit. "Ask me," Nebula demanded, starting to move her fingers. " _Beg_." Gamora shuddered and pressed her forehead into the wall.

"More," she demanded in turn, as she always had. Nebula had never been enough, not _for_ her, not to beat her. Her breathing was harsh and she rasped, "Fuck me already," with no sign that it was surrender. But Nebula knew surrender, and she knew defeat, and she knew that now Gamora was begging for it. Now Nebula had the upper hand, no matter how much she wanted to get on her knees and eat Gamora until she cried.

Obligingly, Nebula slid two fingers into Gamora's cunt. As feverishly hot as her skin was, inside she was even hotter. She crooked her fingers, rough, hard enough that she almost expected Gamora's hips to follow them. Gamora was in the palm of her hand. Gamora was in her power.

Gamora didn't seem to care.

Frustrated, wanting something she didn't know how to express, Nebula set her teeth at Gamora's corded neck and bit down while she slid a third finger into Gamora's grasping cunt. When Gamora gasped, canting her hips back into Nebula's, that was almost like what Nebula wanted. It was almost right. It was almost enough. It could be enough, if she kept herself from wanting.

She kept her fingers moving, fast and firm, wetness filling her palm and smearing up her wrist, until Gamora grunted, her whole body going rigid, and then she moved faster, fucking Gamora through her overstimulation. She kept going until Gamora hissed and grabbed her wrist with her free hand. "Stop," Gamora said. "Enough."

Nebula pulled back fast, dropping Gamora's arm and backing away. She wiped her hand on her pants, wanting Gamora off of her. She should have left Gamora desperate, should have edged her and stopped before she came and never given her what she wanted.

When Gamora turned, she looked fractionally more like herself, her eyes slightly less wild. If not for the way her pants gaped open, showing glimpses of her coarse red pubic hair, the paler green of her abdomen, where it never saw a sun, she would have looked like she'd just come from battle, triumphant.

How like her, to turn Nebula's victory into her own. How like her, to win, even when she lost.

Nebula licked her lips, ignored the twisting in her stomach. "Feeling better, sister?" she asked, trying for taunting and not quite making it.

Gamora took a step towards her, red mist eddying around her feet as she moved. It was thinning out, the air scrubbers doing their slow work, but it was still thick enough that Gamora's boots were obscured. There and then gone, much like Gamora herself. "It's effective," Gamora said. "I wasn't myself."

Nebula felt the snarl on her face, tried to bite it back, failed. "You felt like yourself," she said and apparently Gamora was still feeling the effects, because she flinched.

She recovered quickly, as she always had. She finger-combed her hair into order as she spoke, then buttoned her pants, straightened her shirt. If not for the hickey blooming deep green on her throat, there would be no sign Nebula had ever touched her. "Thanos will want to know you were unaffected."

"I'm the lead," Nebula reminded her. "I'll be giving the report. Do you think he'll find it funny, that your success was your handicap?"

"There's nothing funny about this," Gamora snapped, striding past her towards the door. The air scrubbers were working hard, but Gamora gave her space anyway, like she was afraid of what she would do if she got close to Nebula.

"You only think that because you're the butt of the joke this time," Nebula said, harsh, coming up behind Gamora so Gamora's nostrils flared. She waited to see if Gamora would try to fight her or fuck her, but after an aborted twitch, Gamora had control of herself again. Disappointing.

She'd liked Gamora without her iron tight control. She didn't like the idea of Thanos using the mist however he planned to. For a moment she thought about saying, _what if we didn't go back_ , but then she looked at Gamora, the set of her jaw as she pounded on the door. Their father's favorite daughter, his most reliable ally. There was no way she would leave, not with Nebula, not to help strangers. 

The voice of their host echoed through the room from hidden speakers. "Apologies, but we can't let you out until the air scrubbers have finished their work."

"How long?" Nebula said, suddenly eager to be out of here, away from the stink of Gamora's cunt and her own frustrated longing and the guilt that rose like gorge at the back of her throat.

Though she couldn't see the Vrovean, she could hear his nerves. "An hour."

"Not good enough," Gamora said. "You have ten minutes, or we're coming out whether you want us to or not."

Even now, Gamora took the lead from her. Nebula would have fought her over it, but she wanted to wash her hands. She wanted to be alone with the memory of how Gamora had clenched around her fingers, had been, ever so briefly, in her power.

She would blame it on the frenzy, if anyone asked. Not that anyone would. "I'm not waiting ten minutes," she said, going for the door. Nebula jammed her fingers into the crease that closed the sliding door, and wrenched it apart with a grunt of effort, the pneumatics protesting as she forced them.

The mist spilled out past her feet, dispersing in the wider space as the Vroveans in the attached room hurried to the door on the other side of the room. The one they'd been talking to walked backwards as it spoke to her, protesting, but Nebula didn't care anymore.

"We'll send a comm with the mining contract," Nebula spat, striding past the Vrovean and heading unerringly for their ship. She wanted off this planet.

She should have known when she won the coin toss that this mission would stick in her teeth. Gamora never let her win, not in the end.


End file.
